New Life
by silvermooncatgirl
Summary: A teenage girl is turned into an Eevee - scenes of cruelty, a few Lemons, swearing, so rated M for all of these. Quite dark.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is just the first part to the story, so it's really short. Future chapters will be longer.**

Everything hurt.

My eyes wouldn't open, and my mouth was forced shut, my lips dry and cracked.

I tried to flex my fingers. I felt hard ground, and gravel, but my fingers couldn't get a purchase on anything. I felt like I was wearing thick mittens, scrabbling at the ground but never touching, not _really_.

I tried to speak; but my voice stuck in my throat and my lips wouldn't open. I ended up emitting a tinny croak that hurt my throat.

What was wrong with me?

I tried to move my legs, and they seemed to work fine, but they felt heavy, and thick somehow.

I could hear voices. I stopped trying to move and focused on them for a while.

_"- I'm being serious, I think we killed her."  
"No, look. She's breathing."  
"I don't care, she's gonna stop breathing in a bit if we don't do something."  
"Boss' gonna kill us."  
"He wouldn't."  
_Both voices sounded fearful now.

I suddenly felt that I could open my eyes, so I did.

The light stung my eyes, and I had to close them. I winced, and the voices stopped instantly.

_"She moved."  
"No, she didn't!"  
"Yes, she did, the back legs are bent differently now. Look."_Back legs?

I had... I didn't... What?

A blind tearing panic ripped through me, and I convulsed, tucking my head into my stomach, legs whirling, arms flailing and there was a sound... a thick mewl coming from my throat, and it sounded completely alien.

Something hard grabbed me round my stomach. It felt like an iron hand, squeezing too tight. I let myself go limp and the frantic voices went hushed.

_"What did you do?"  
"Nothing! Just got hold of her."  
"Well let her go! Put her down."  
"Okay, okay..."_I felt myself being lowered to the floor, and dared open my eyes a little way.

My vision was clouded by a thin caramel coloured film, but after a few blinks, that evaporated into a white-orange film that I could see through.

I could see feet, and the shoes were shiny.

_"Told you she was alive."_ The voice was triumphant.

I stretched out one leg. I rolled over.

Looked up into at least a hundred faces.


	2. Chapter 2

__

The cloud that obscured my vision had come back, but this time it brought such a sting to my eyes that I had to close them.

The people who were watching me began muttering again.

_"I say we're killing 'em."  
"Who cares if we are? Stops stupid kids meddling with us."  
"You clearly don't have younger brothers and sisters, huh."_

I forced my eyelids open and made myself look around.

I was in a glass-walled room, with high domed ceilings that showed a dark night sky through the glass. The moon hung jauntily, casting yellowish beams of light across the roof and bouncing off the walls.

There were lab benches all around me, and I was in a box.

It was a large glass box, but it was a box nonetheless, and I was claustrophobic.

I began to whimper despite myself; it hurt my throat but I couldn't stop. One of the men stormed angrily up to the box I was contained in, and snarled through the oval holes that I knew gave me air, "Shut it."

I pressed myself backwards against the glass, and then I caught sight of my reflection.

What. The. Fuck.

What the hell was that?

A tiny, skinned creature was staring back at me, huge honey coloured eyes blinking in astonishment, the mouth curled into a shocked "o".

There were bloodstains around the creature (I refused to accept that that _thing_ was me)'s shoulders and neck, and the four legs were red raw, skinny, and finished off with huge paws that would look normal if the animal was a healthy weight.

I managed to choke out a noise, which came out sounding like me with a very croaky voice. "What - ?" I managed, and then coughed hard, trying not to look at the convulsing creature in the reflecting glass; that was me. What had happened to me?

About seven or eight of the men and women had gathered around the box; and I frantically backed myself into the corner as one of the men lifted the glass lid and reached his arm inside. He wore thick leather gloves.

I whimpered again, hating myself for being so frightened, and scuttled around the box in a frenzy as he snatched at the air. He caught my back leg and I wailed; the rough fabric of his glove caught on the ripped and slowly healing skin.

"Gotcha," the man muttered as he hauled me out of the box. I went limp and closed my eyes as he handed me to another person; who placed me slightly more gently onto a cold worktop.

"What're we meant to do with 'em when they wake up?" asked the first man, the one who had lifted me.

The answering voice was young, more childlike, though deeper, so I assumed it was a teenage boy.

"Kill them, sir."

His voice was heavy with remorse, and I looked up into his face.

He blinked hard and looked away. "Look, though, sir," he tried, but the first man glared stonily at him and the boy murmured something under his breath.

"Speak up, boy," the man demanded, ignoring the other workers who had slowly began to walk away.

"I said, I'll take her," the boy said. "To the other room," he added, miserably.

"That's better."

"Yes, sir."

The boy picked me up and cradled me against the itchy material of his weird spaceman suit. I felt the motion of being carried, and I closed my eyes.

The corridor outside was cold, with air conditioning vents blowing air directly down onto my body. It felt oddly nice, but irritated my skin, so I struggled. The boy held me up and looked at my face.

"I don't want to kill you," he whispered. He tucked me under his arm and held my front legs. "But I have to, you know that? Or else they're gonna do this to loads more kids. I... I don't even know if you can hear me," he added, with a nervous laugh. Then he sighed and went silent.

He opened the door to another room using a plastic card, and placed me into another glass box. I whimpered and pressed a ... hand against the glass (I had tiny fingers attatched to the paw) and gazed at him.

"Please," I managed, and he turned to face me.

"Oh, fuck, don't do that," he whispered. "Please, please, please don't. I really hate this bit. None of the others tried to talk."

His voice wavered and a tear slid down his face. "I can't," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I just really... really can't."

"Please," I choked out again. My voice cracked and my eyes stung as if I was crying, though when I inspected my reflection the honey eyes were dry.

"Shut up!" the boy cried, angry now. "It's not fair! I didn't ask for this! They'd take her! They'd take my sister, okay, if I don't do this. They'd take my little sister and turn her into a Pokemon like you and I can't - deal - with - this!" He was crying in earnest now, but I had stopped listening a moment ago.

"P-Pokemon?" I coughed.

The boy looked up, his steel grey eyes pouring tears. "Yes. I think you're an Eevee," he said.

I blinked.

"They take the fur off," he said, "and sell it."

"Why?"

"That's what we're doing," he said, "Turning kids into Pokemon, using all that technology, for something we could have done millions of years ago with Ursaring skin and stuff."

I backed into the corner and curled up, resting my chin on my ravaged legs.

"Don't."


End file.
